Mr. Finite was a salesman
his life hung from a smile
his shoes were always so shiny
though they walked so many miles
he drank a lot in the evenings then
he'd lie in bed alone
praying for the day he wouldn't wake
still morning came with
an alarm clock's moan.
Mr. Finite was a gentleman
waiting on a train
dressed in plaid and cigarette smoke
he counts his steps like he counts his days
slowly placed and shortly lived
apprehensive of the next
the best laid plans of mice and men
are often their regret
He would daydream
when loneliest
about having real friends
about a girl's perfume and smile
and about their daughter's hands
about the secrets God is keeping
about the colors in the sky
come to think of it
he daydreamed everyday until he died.
The Oakland singer's latest album imagines the power struggle between man and nature as a slow, steady tempest of dark folk. Bandcamp New & Notable Nov 20, 2019